Buried
by WH1T3R4V3N
Summary: One way in. No way out. The mines are no longer safe; a mysterious force has been spreading death and destruction, and when Steve finds himself trapped in a mineshaft, there's only one way he can go. Down.
1. Bad Omens

**Suddenly, a new fanfiction! I've decided to work on another story (this one is in a diary format) as well as "Herobrine Rising" so tell me what you think and if I should continue it.**

**Don't forget to leave a rating if you liked!**

**-Raven**

* * *

**Bad Omens**

_Day 1_

* * *

I finally did it. After all the indecision, all the talks of "danger" and "hazards" and "extreme peril" I have managed to convince my parents to let me go. After all, we are not the most well off family, and could use the extra money. At last, I can follow in my father's footsteps and become a miner; no more hauling logs for hours on end, back aching, fingers worn down to the bone. It's more risky, sure, but the pay is so much more! I will be able to afford a better home, better armour, maybe even a diamond sword to replace my rusty old iron one. To be honest, I'm surprised it still works, the durability is so low.

I saw the mines for the first time today. The owner, Dale, is not much older than I am, and very successful at that. He has spiked, chocolate hair and amber eyes, and carries himself with the confidence and swagger that you'd expect from someone so effectual. But really, he's a nice guy at heart.

"Are you sure you want to work here?" He asked me, genuine worry creasing his features. We had been just about to take a tour of the main sites his group worked, and I was feeling extremely excited. "We don't usually take on someone so young. The mines are no joke, you could get yourself killed if you're not careful."

I sighed. "I appreciate your concern, but I have had plenty of time to think this over. Don't worry, I'm not stupid."

"Well, you seem to have made up your mind, uh…"

"Steven Minersson," I finished. "But everyone calls me Steve."

Dale and I chatted aimlessly on the way to the cave entrance, so I got to know him a little better. He enjoyed his work, that much was for sure, and enthusiastically described his delight at the discovery of a thick vein of diamond ore on level thirteen. To my surprise, he was to come with us on our expeditions; in fact, he liked to personally lead mining teams as much as possible. I wouldn't be accompanying him, though. Not until I had gained more experience.

"Well, here we are!" To be honest, the entrance wasn't much to look at - a run-down rudimentary piston door system smothered in clinging vines - but Dale was obviously very proud of it.

"We don't source anything from other sites," He explained, "All our redstone and building materials come from this here mine." I was impressed. I mean, mining redstone is dangerous work, so most companies just trade for it instead of collecting their own. Dale, it seemed, was determined to be entirely self-sufficient.

When the pistons slid open to grant us access, I'll admit I gasped. Dale's mine was larger than any I had seen on trips with my father - he would usually just dig fresh tunnels in the absence of natural caves - but this mine was based in an immense ravine, closed off at the top by only a few layers of dirt. I know now that I have passed over that spot many times, unaware of the cavernous space that lies below, of the soaring towers of rock propped up by a few weak wooden supports. Already, I could see coal and iron ore dotting the walls, and understood how Dale had become so rich so quickly - the place was a literal goldmine.

"You will start work on level one or two," The owner patiently explained. "There's not much to collect besides coal, but there's little risk of a flood or collapse." I nodded, aware that I would not be able to work in the deeper levels until I had gained more experience. Dale seemed to be worried, possibly expecting a complaint, so I smiled reassuringly.

"It's OK. I understand that it's too risky for me to mine close to bedrock as I have little training."

I noticed a subtle relaxation of Dale's features; clearly he had been concerned I'd protest. He grinned back at me, and offered to introduce me to the team I would be working with. As we walked, I noticed a few miners staring at me curiously as we passed. Surely a new worker wasn't that much of a big deal was it? Nevertheless, a few whispers broke out and not one of them took their eyes off me until Dale ordered them back to work. They all seem to respect him greatly, and instantly went back to mining without complaint, but I couldn't shake the feeling of being watched.

"Is it always this way for new workers?" I asked Dale, who glanced at me in confusion.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, everyone seems a little… On edge. Is it because of me?" Sighing, Dale pulled me aside and spoke quietly to me, ensuring we would not be overheard by the tense workers mining the ravine walls.

"I'm sure you are aware of 'Him', aren't you?" I was taken aback; This wasn't what I'd been expecting. I squinted in the murky half-light, trying to make out any trace of humour on my companion's face, but Dale was deadly serious.

"Of course, my mother told me those stories as a child."

"Then I presume you are aware of your… Uh… Resemblance to Him, surely?"

I have been told many times that my face and build is similar to the white-eyed man of legend, but I'd never thought anything of it, and I'd never have thought my appearance would spook a group of fully grown men so much. Confused, I nodded, and Dale continued.

"I suppose you have a right to know. The workers here are somewhat superstitious; They claim your arrival is a bad omen. I don't believe in the tales myself, but you're more well known than you realise, Steve. I had to try hard just to convince them you weren't going to bring about the destruction of this mine."

To be honest, this information shocked me. I couldn't believe that people I'd never even met before would judge and fear me based on my looks alone. It gave me a little hope to hear about the lengths Dale had gone to to get me (sort of) accepted though; I felt as if I could rely upon him a little more now.

"Anyway," Dale straightened, a forced brightness permeating his tone, "Why don't you come and meet the rest of your team!"

The miners I work with are actually quite nice; being skeptics themselves, they didn't have time for "silly superstitious nonsense". I believe their names are Aria, Zek, Ethan, Jackson, Ssundee and Deadlox.

Aria looks to be the one with the most experience out of all of us; She was assigned to our group to keep us newbies under control, and has no tolerance for messing around. Always carries a sword with her too, hanging from a thick, loose belt around her waist. She has quite a striking figure actually, all black, worn leather mottled with the traces of a thousand fights, her long crimson hair pulled back in a tight ponytail.

Zek and Ssundee, on the other hand, seem to be a lot more friendly, and I have quite warmed to them in the short time I have known them. Zek, with his unkempt jet-black hair and startling magenta eyes, seems quite the joker. Always playing pranks and laughing at his team-mates expressions, I found myself warming to him immediately. Deadlox, Zek and Ssundee are inseparable; they were best mates even before starting work in the mines, so I didn't expect anything less.

Ethan and Jackson are a couple. I know it. Sure, they try to hide it, but anyone paying the least bit of attention can spot the tells. I presume they have been mining together for a while, and agreed to join our team to pad out the numbers.

The side of the ravine where we work is very high off the ground. The only way up or down is over a series of rickety bridges and precarious ladders, making gaining access to the site tiresome and difficult. I suppose it doesn't help that I'm a little scared of heights. Zek noticed my hesitation, and smiled in an attempt to reassure me.

"You get used to it," He grinned, "Besides, it's completely safe."

Then we heard the scream.


	2. He Knows

**Thank you guys for all the lovely reviews; they are a true pleasure to read! Just a warning, "Herobrine Rising" posts may be a little less frequent now that I am running two stories simultaneously, but I'll do my best!**

**NOTICE - This is a no-sailing-zone! (In other words, I don't ship characters)!**

* * *

**He knows**

_Day 3_

* * *

No one has been into the mines for two days now. Not since… Not since the incident. Today, I caught some of the workers whispering about me behind my back. They claim I'm responsible for what happened, and won't even look at me anymore. Honestly, I wish someone would just confront me about it, just have the guts to voice their superstitions. I suppose it doesn't help that I was the first on the scene, first to witness what happened.

Zek and I were getting along quite well. It's surprising how easily you can get to know someone in the cramped conditions of a mining tunnel, so I became friends with him quite quickly. He's in the same situation that I am, I suppose. Neither of us have much money, so have to take the most dangerous jobs just to scrape by. The only difference is, Zek despises mining and only signed up out of desperation, whereas I (with a miner for a father) am already accustomed to the long hours and dank conditions.

Aria hurried us on; despite my curiosity at my new surroundings, I didn't resist. After all, I was lucky to even get this job, lucky that Dale cared enough to convince the other workers to accept me. Zek, it seemed, had no such concerns, and constantly dawdled and bombarded Aria with questions.

"So how did Dale find this place anyway?"

"This site had been abandoned for a long time." I could tell Aria was infuriated by Zek's continuous pestering, but felt obliged to answer. "The locals stayed away from it, so it was untouched when we arrived."

"Why is that?"

"Superstition. Folks round here are fanatics; Believers in 'Him'. A couple of guys went missing round these parts a while ago, so the villagers decided this place was cursed."

Well that explained the distrustful looks the workers had been giving me. I began to ask whether Aria thought anything of these tales, but Ethan beat me to it.

"What do you think?"

"Personally, I think 'He' is just an old fable people use to scare their kids. There's no point worrying about someone that doesn't exist." She turned away and resumed walking, the conversation already forgotten.

We ascended the rickety ladders, me hesitating slightly as I have always had a small fear of heights. Zek, who was beside me, glanced over reassuringly, and told me that it was completely safe. No need to worry.

We had just been about to begin at that time. Kitted out, iron pick in hand, I felt confident and in control for the first time in my life. I can clearly remember my strong sense of excitement; I've been waiting for this opportunity all my life after all, begging my parents to let me go. Of course, there was no danger, no risk at all.

How wrong I was.

"Someone help!" The shrill scream echoed around the cavernous mineshaft, rousing those asleep from slumber and those awake from their inner thoughts. Zek shot a panicked glance at me, then, without further hesitation, we bolted towards the source of the sickening howl.

"Hey, wait!" Aria called after us, "It's not your concern!"

She was ignored. The two of us sprinted towards the entrance to level thirteen, where the plea had emanated from. I noticed the other miners simply stood aside as we passed; No one made a move to join us or get help.

"Don't just stand there, come with us!" Zek angrily accosted the nearest worker, but the grizzled grey-haired man simply shook his head and turned away. Zek let out a cry of frustration and pushed past him, both of us stumbling down the steep incline towards thirteen.

The lowest level is not comprised of natural tunnels, only man-made, winding passageways barely two blocks high. I've never been the claustrophobic type, but the rough cave walls scraping against my bare skin, coupled with the still-echoing cries somewhere up ahead, set my nerves on edge. I kept expecting a skeleton or creeper to materialise around the corner, or to smell the faint whiff of decay and feel a pair of rotten, fetid hands closing around my throat.

"We're almost there, I think." For the first time since I'd met him, my companion sounded a little frightened. I suppose his fear was justified; we were all alone in one of the deepest, most dangerous mining tunnels, the dingy torchlight casting flickering titian shadows on the walls. We had to travel single-file, heads lowered to avoid the frequent razor-sharp protrusions of stone, so I could no longer see up ahead. I barely noticed when the shaft widened into a large asymmetrical cavern, or the harsh glow of magma cascading from a small inlet towards the ceiling.

I did however, notice the man.

He lay on his back, arms splayed, breath hitching in pain beside the hellish lake of lava. His face, hideously burnt on one side, gazed up at me pleadingly, and he opened his mouth to call out. No sound emerged, but I could tell just from the miner's lip movements what he was saying.

_Help me…_

Zek pushed past me; Kneeling, he took in the gruesome sight and tried not to throw up at the glimpse of several large, gaping wounds across the worker's chest.

"In the name of Notch, what happened to you?"

The miner coughed, vomiting forth a thin stream of watery blood from between his teeth. He seemed determined to tell me something, ignoring Zek (who was applying pressure to his chest) completely.

"Knows…"

"Huh?" What was the wounded Minecraftian trying to say? Slightly hysterically, I shouted at Zek to go and get help. He gulped, afraid of traversing the airless, labyrinthine caves by himself, but obeyed nonetheless. His footsteps, growing ever fainter, echoed off the cold rock surrounding me, until I could hear them no more.

I'd never felt so alone.

The miner blinked rapidly, fighting through the pain in order to stay awake. I leaned in closer as he spoke again, voice so faint it was merely a whisper.

"He knows."


	3. No Escape

**Sorry this took so long, I've been away for a while, so I made this chapter extra long just for you guys! (The part in italic is not written in a diary format; I just thought I'd clarify that)**

* * *

**No Escape**

_Day 4_

* * *

His name was Lukas. At least, that's what they told me. He was one of the only sceptics still working in the mines, despite the series of disappearances all those years ago, one of the only original natives to still brave the dark in search of a living. He was a veteran, too, with over twenty years of experience and the scars to show for it. He was always careful though, they said. Not once had he ever found himself in a compromising position and been forced to seek help.

At least, not until yesterday.

The doctors did all they could, but there was no hope for him. By the time help arrived, he had succumbed to a strange, withering infection from the wounds across his chest that spread through his body like wildfire, corrupting everything it touched. There was nothing they could do but stand by and let him rot.

Needless to say, I am trusted even less now. Being sceptics, the other workers have got it into their heads that I was responsible for the tragedy, despite my insistent attempts to plead my innocence. Ssundee and Zek pitched in on my behalf, but their efforts did nothing to stop a group of miners accosting Dale after work, demanding to have me fired. He refused point blank.

"You all must understand," Dale had pleaded with them, "Steven had nothing to do with this unfortunate calamity-"

"Unfortunate?" Outraged, a muscle-bound worker stepped out from the crowd, gnarled fists clenched in anger. "Lukas was too careful for this so be a simple accident. Always watched his back, he did. Nothing like this has happened for years, then the very first day that wretched man shows up…" He roughly pointed a shaking finger at me, partially hidden behind Dale, who was standing his ground.

"I appreciate that," The mine owner said calmly, "But this lamentable event has nothing to do with this fellow's arrival."

"I quit. I can't work here, with 'him'." The miner threw down his pick at Dale's feet, prompting a chorus of objections from the crowd behind him. "I know you don't believe in these kind of things, Dale, but I do. I'll find work elsewhere."

"Graham, please, think this over. This is a rash decision you're making based on one accident."

"No. This wasn't an accident. It was a warning." And with that, the worker turned away towards the village, the other miners slowly dispersing to go after him. Dale looked back to us, gazed at Zek who was also hovering protectively in front of me should things have turned violent. I felt awful; If I hadn't acted on my desire to work in the mines, then Dale wouldn't be in this mess. I had a dreadful feeling that if I'd never showed up in the first place, then Lukas would still be alive.

"Dale, I'm sorry, this is all my fault. I should have quit when I heard about the rumours. It's all my-"

"Don't." Dale glowered at me beneath his unkempt fringe of chocolate hair. "Don't ever say that. You're a good guy, Steve, and I do not want to see you walk out on me just because a few superstitious workers get you down. We're here for you, right?" He shot a glance back at the rest of my team, who all nodded enthusiastically in agreement.

Well, almost all.

"I'm sorry. I don't think I can work here anymore." I scanned the group to see who had spoken; all heads turned to Deadlox, who was gazing at the ground with a shameful expression on his face.

"Deadlox?" Ssundee narrowed his eyes in confusion, stunned by the words coming from his friend's mouth. "What-?"

"It's just… Everything that's happened. All those deaths that happened years ago. And just yesterday, Lukas' demise. It happened right when we showed up, Dee, like a warning to stay away. I couldn't… I couldn't bear having to look over my shoulder all the time, waiting for something to happen to me as well. I'm sorry."

"Please, don't! Don't abandon me like this, Deadlox. We stick together, right?" Even I could hear the desperation in Ssundee's voice, a dark desperation that I could understand.

"Then come with me," Deadlox pleaded, "We can find work elsewhere, and never have to go near this place again."

I must say, I really thought Ssundee would take Deadlox up on his offer, but the dark-clothed Minecraftian shook his head. "No. Steve needs all the friends he can get."

The kind words made me feel even more guilty. I had only known these people for a couple of days, and already I had broken a long-standing friendship, caused several people to quit their jobs and possibly even been the indirect cause of a horrific death.

My new life wasn't really going as planned.

* * *

_He had left it too late._

_Night had well and truly fallen, laying a thick impenetrable blanket across the long gravel pathway, so Deadlox was forced to make his way home in the pitch black. Usually, he would have been in bed by now, as the mines closed early and the sun set late, but Graham's harsh accusations and eventual resignation had held everyone up. It wouldn't have been too bad if Ssundee had joined him on the walk back, but his friend wouldn't even look at him after Deadlox's 'betrayal'._

_"It's not my fault I want to live," Deadlox complained out loud to no one in particular, "I'm not ending up like Lukas, slashed to bits and dying underground." He sighed, viciously kicking a pebble into the undergrowth. This sucked. He had no job, his best friend had deserted him, and now he had to trudge home alone in the oppressive blackness._

_"For the love of Notch, why me?"_

_A flickering glow from up ahead cast eerie shadows across the surrounding birch trees, turning their trunks a ghostly white, but the sight gave Deadlox hope. He was too far away from the village for this to be light emanating from a house, so maybe it was another worker's torch casting the light. That would be good; Even if Deadlox didn't know them well enough to strike up a comfortable conversation, a second presence would ease the loneliness of the long walk back. But should he just yell out to them? They might get startled and- Oh, to the Nether with it._

_"Hello? Is someone there?" He waited a beat, but no reply was forthcoming. Slowly, Deadlox approached the source of the light, shielding his eyes from the glare. A memory flitted in the back of his mind - the legend of a man with hideous blank, glowing eyes who killed trespassers for fun. Herobrine, his name was, a twisted demon with Notchlike powers that tortured and murdered on a whim. Deadlox would never admit it, but the mysterious light, coupled with the recollection of the old myth, caused the pale hairs on his arms to rise. Deadlox shuddered, rubbing them furiously in an attempt to make the sensation disappear. He must simply be cold._

_With slight trepidation, the ex-miner approached the source of the brightness lurking in the woods._

_It was…_

_It was…_

_It was a lone redstone torch, placed in the exact centre of the worn gravel path. The lit end was bright, and had not burned down more than a few centimetres, suggesting it had been recently lit. Usually, the muddied gravel would hold the impressions of any Minecraftians that passed by, but no footprints were visible beside the mysterious light source._

_Deadlox glanced around in confusion, then broke a couple of gravel blocks with his fists to check for hidden wiring, but the torch didn't seem to be powering anything. Redstone torches certainly weren't used a illumination, that much Deadlox knew, as the light they gave off wasn't enough to stop mobs from spawning. To him, the torch looked less like a power source, and more like a sinister warning. What purpose did the warning serve, though? What reason was there to place a valuable source of energy out in the open for anyone to steal?_

_Cautiously, he picked the light up off the ground, checking it for any abnormalities and listening out for the telltale hiss of a piston trap. When nothing remarkable happened, Deadlox replaced it and continued on towards his remote household, ever conscious of a subtle feeling of being watched._

Oh Notch, why did I leave it so late to get back?

_A slight rustle in the undergrowth had Deadlox reaching for a weapon, but finding none._

_"Who's there?"_

_The faint noise came again, this time to his left, and closer. He squinted into the gloom in the hope of making out who was there, but to no avail._

_"Come out!"_

_The fog thickened slightly around him, a black, unnatural mist coiling round his legs. He backed away, hating the feeling of powerlessness, and bunched his fists in readiness to fight._

_Then a pair of pale hands seized Deadlox by the throat and dragged him screaming into the darkness._


	4. Take Him

**Here it is! A new chapter! I'm actually really pleased with how this fic is turning out, and will be introducing 'Him' soon! Things could get interesting...**

* * *

**Take Him**

_Day 5_

* * *

It was Ssundee who broke the news to me. I'd been left alone that entire day; even my team recognised that I needed some time to myself. Slowly, in my self-appointed isolation, I had managed to lose myself in the comforting rhythm of my pick striking rock. It reminded me of a time before the madness, a time where it was just the two of us working in silence. Me and my father. He wasn't one to force idle chat in an attempt to cover the peace, so we usually went long hours without speaking at all. In truth, that's the way I like it.

Focusing solely of work meant that I had a pretty nice stack of ores by the end of the day. Dale had let me work alone up by the very tip of the underground ravine, out of everyone's way. Not many people had actually excavated the area, as there was more riches to be found by the base of the cavern, so I accumulated nearly seven stacks of coal, three stacks of iron, and a few shards of lapis. The azure rocks are practically useless, so I always get to keep them. I use the porous stones to dye my garments quickly and easily, even if it means that I own multiple sets of identical clothes.

Anyway, I'm getting off track. At this point, I had managed to forget it all. The deaths. The hate. The undisguised hostility obvious on the other worker's faces whenever they caught a glimpse of me. I had managed to forget it all until he came. Ssundee approached me quietly in the chaotic hustle of the working mine, and spoke three simple words that brought me crashing back to reality.

"Deadlox is dead."

He didn't stand a chance, they told me. Zek and Ssundee had gone to visit him the night he left, to try and reason with him about quitting. He hadn't even made it back to his home; his mangled corpse was discovered in the middle of a gravel pathway, lit by a single redstone torch. He died the same way Lukas did, from three deep wounds right across his chest. And the rot. That's what they're calling it now, the rot. It's unlike anything the village doctors have ever seen, a strange, withering corruption of unknown origin. We're pretty sure it isn't contagious, but people are becoming spooked nonetheless. They demanded Deadlox's body be burnt, to destroy him utterly "before the pathogens spread", whatever that means.

Ssundee had to repeat the words twice more before the horrible realisation sunk in. I guess I was in shock - he had to literally shake me to get me to respond, and when I did, it wasn't with anything coherent.

"Deadlox is dead," He spoke again, with menace lurking in his tone. If I had been paying more attention, I would have noticed the dark, malevolent gleam in his eyes, but my focus was completely shot by the earth shattering news.

I was completely unprepared when his gentle hold evolved into a strong choke, one arm slipping round my throat.

"What… Wait!" I was powerless to break the suffocating grip, powerless to free myself from the man crushing the life out of me.

"Deadlox is dead because of you," Ssundee hissed in my ear as the world started to fade from view. I gasped desperately for air, digging my nails into his forearm in panic, but my friend was too far gone to care about the pain. "It's all your fault, Steve."

"Please…" Hazily, I made out another figure rushing up behind him, trying to pull the crazed Minecraftian off me. It was too late; my grip slackened, my eyes closed and I fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

…

I didn't wake for a long time. The first thing I noticed having regained my senses was that I was no longer beside my small mine; I must have been carried down the steps while unconscious. Or dragged down, as my back was covered in deep, mottled bruises and felt like someone had taken a hammer to it. Instead, I was lying by the entrance to level thirteen, surrounded by people I barely recognised.

What the? No one looked too happy to see me alive and well; no one made a move to try and help me up. With a slight shock, I realised the rest of my team were with me, facing the mob as if to protect me from them. Aria, Zek, Ethan, Jackson, all of them putting their jobs - and possibly their lives - on the line. For me. I'd never felt so loved, and (catching a glimpse of the raging gang's faces) so hated at the same time.

"Stand aside! The man needs to die!" I didn't know who had spoken. They all looked the same to me. Scared. Angry. Needing someone to blame for their pain. I was just unfortunate that that someone was me.

"He has done nothing wrong and you know it," Aria barked straight back at him, holding her ground. "It's not Steve's fault you lot still believe in old fairytales." A missile sailed over the heads of the mob, striking her a glancing blow to the cheek. Aria barely even flinched, but Ethan cried out in shock at the careless, violent act.

"Leave her alone!" He leapt out in front of her as more projectiles took flight. "Stop this! Are you crazy?!" Ethan was brave, but no match for them. A fist slammed into the side of his face, and he dropped hard to the ground.

"No!" Jackson, with tears in her eyes, pushed past us to lean over his unmoving form. The faint rise and fall of his chest revealed that he was alive, but Aria still had to physically restrain Jackson as she struggled to launch herself at the horde.

I finally found the strength to speak. "Everyone stop," My voice sounded calm, but inside I was in turmoil. I finally knew what I had to do. "If you all really believe that this is my doing, then take it out on me, and me alone. Don't drag my friends into this." Glancing back at them, It came to my attention that someone was missing. Of course - Ssundee. He stood to one side, almost invisible in the gloom. The man had been forgotten, so it took everyone by surprise when he spoke for the first time.

"Let 'Him' have them."

The mob quietened, debating this new idea. I prayed to Notch that they would decide to go through with it.

Anything. Just stop hurting my friends.

Slowly, the grizzled miner at the head of the throng nodded.

"It's a long shot, but maybe… Maybe 'He' will leave us alone then."

No further words were needed. Faced with that one terrifying choice - to stand my ground and die, or to venture into the unknown - I backed away towards the entrance to level thirteen. To my surprise, the rest of my old team came with me. They seemed determined to follow; My abrupt protestations were cut short by Aria shooting me a warning glare.

The mob leader tossed me a small bag, and with a jolt I realised that this had all been planned. Even Ssundee, who had retreated back into the shadows in shame, had been part of it.

All because of me.

Not another word was said; Turning our backs on our ex-colleagues and friends, we ventured cautiously into the darkness.


	5. Falling Apart

**It's here! Yaaaay! I'm SO SORRY for the wait, I have not been able to write for a couple of days and have had a huge case of writer's block! Sorry once again of this chapter isn't up to scratch, but feel free to leave a review if you like this chapter and are enjoying this story so far!**

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**Falling Apart**

_Day 7_

* * *

_However hard they searched, they would not find him. They could not see him, could not hear him or even sense the dark presence lurking in the suffocating shadows. Of course, even he could not suppress the animalistic instinct that flared up in their frail bodies when he was near. It kept them on edge; after all, he couldn't fully disguise his powerful proximity. To be honest, that was just the way he liked it. He liked his victims to stay naive but anxious until the last, terrifying moment. He liked to drink in the fear leaking out of them like a foul smell. He liked-_

This isn't you.

_He growled softly, shaking away the nagging voice beating a headache on his cranium. It was always there, no matter how hard he tried to shove it aside. To take his mind off the discomfort, he left his small perch - balanced precariously on a ledge of crumbling rock - and ambled down the two-by-two tunnel towards the humans. Already, he could hear them shuffling about in the twilight, muttering to themselves and breathing heavily. They surprised him. Of all places to stay, they chose the one point that still reeked of death. It had soaked into the earth, tainting the dirt with a cloying, crimson shroud. He was sure they could feel the cold waves of energy perforating the air too, so why did they not leave? Why? Was it a challenge, a blatant, contemptuous disregard of his warning?_

If it is a challenge you want, it is a challenge you will get.

_The others meant nothing to him - they were unimportant, meaningless, unworthy of recognition. All except 'him'. He was… He was something else. Someone painfully familiar. Someone worth observing. But who?_

Who are you, miner?

Who are you?

* * *

It's too dark. I can't take it. I've never been the achluophobic type, but my adventures into the unknown have always been on my own terms; My father never took me into a mine or a situation that I couldn't handle. But this… This is different.

I still don't know what has become of Dale. If he had witnessed what had happened, I'm sure he would have come to our aid, but they must have distracted him somehow. Or worse.

We have been down here for two days. Two days of constantly looking over our shoulders, constantly jumping at every slight noise or subtle movement in the oppressive shadows. The workers blocked off the exit behind us, so we cannot leave until we have either died or have concrete proof that the menace is past. No one believes that we'll come back alive, though. At least Ssundee (who stayed behind, the traitor) is safe. I suppose I should be thankful for that.

I miss the sun. I miss having a choice - everything that's happening seems preordained, determined by some higher power. Someone, or something, is dictating my every movement before I make it, every action before it has been completed.

It's not nice, feeling as if you're losing control of your own life.

"Well, at least we don't have to mine anymore," Zek is always trying to lighten the mood, with disastrous results.

"Why don't you just shut up!" Ethan exclaimed, a slight note of panic entering his voice, "This isn't a joke, Notchdamnit!" The endless crushing dark is getting to him, and he always seems on the verge of hyperventilating. He's starting to lose it down here. Then again, no one can go for this long without seeing the sun and not go a bit nuts.

"Chill, I was just trying to alleviate the tension. It's either that, or…" He didn't finish, but we all knew what he meant. It was all too easy to just fall apart.

"Well, don't." Ethan's harsh words soon put an end to all conversation, so we trudged on in silence. There was no plan; All we could think of doing was to venture further into the depths of level thirteen, and possibly find the cause of Lukas (and Deadlox's) demise.

All too soon, our small party reached the small cavern where Lukas had met his end. We couldn't miss it if we tried, couldn't ignore the dark stain spread across the stone floor. At least it was light inside, the magma lake casting a warm, flickering glow across the walls of roughly-hewn rock.

Jackson shuffled a little closer to the heat source, making sure to leave a sizable gap between her and it's spitting, crusted surface.

"Maybe we should stay here, just for a little while."

"Are you kidding? A man died on this very spot, for Notch's sake!"

"Keeping warm is more important at this point, Ethan," I didn't want to remain there either, but we had no other choice. It was either face an unknown (and possibly imaginary) threat, or die of hypothermia in the lightless mining tunnels.

Finally, Ethan nodded, slumping against the wall as far away from the discolouration on the stonework as possible.

"All this… It's not right. How could they? Just seal us in and leave us to die!"

"Fear makes men do the strangest things," Aria spoke for the first time, one side of her face eerily lit by the bubbling magma pool. "I have experienced this first hand." Almost unconsciously, as if the gesture was an afterthought, she reached up and brushed against a small scar beside her ear. I'd never noticed it before.

Confused, I asked, "What do you mean? Where did you get that?" The rest of our group looked as mystified as I was - obviously Aria had never mentioned the slight disfigurement before.

She sighed, shifting under our collective gazes. "I may not have faith in the old… folk tales," Aria began carefully, "But my parents did. They were convinced that 'He' would one day return, and bring about the end of our world. They said that He despised anything beautiful, so they marred their own faces in the belief that the marks would protect them."

"That's horrible!" Aghast, Jackson covered her mouth in shock. "Did they do that to you?"

"Yes. Father tried to make the wound larger, right across my cheek, but I broke free and ran. Half the village pursued me, chased me out, calling me a traitor and claiming I would be the cause of the eventual apocalypse." She smiled bitterly, "I didn't have a very good childhood."

I got up, carefully picking my way over the uneven ground to sit by her side.

"I'm so sorry,"

"It's not your fault. It's why I stood up for you after all - I know what it's like to be the subject of such illogical hate."

"You said you didn't believe," Zak piped up, serious for once. "But what about now? After everything that's been happening?"

"I don't know." Aria slowly rubbed at the faded scar tissue.

"I don't know."


	6. White Eyes

**Sorry this one isn't quite as long as the others; I've been too exited about the next chapter of Nightfall to really drag this out.**

**CONTENT WARNING - Some wimpy people might not like some of the description in this chapter. Squeamish people watch out!**

* * *

**White Eyes**

_Day 8_

* * *

He's real. He exists, and he's after me and me alone. I don't know how, and I don't know why, but one thing is for sure. He's not going to rest, not going to stop until I'm dead at his feet.

We decided to stay beside the magma lake a little longer, despite the horrific events that had taken place there only a few days ago. Being underground, we had no clue what time of day it was, but our small group settled down for the night nevertheless.

The mood was tense; none of us knew what to expect, what to prepare ourselves for on our journey. Despite the danger, I hoped that it would end sooner rather than later, while I still retained at least a shred of self-confidence. A shred of sanity.

But then I made the mistake of falling asleep.

…

Something was wrong. Cautiously, I opened my eyes, expecting to see Zek, who had lain down next to me, or Aria, who was perched on a rock in the centre of the room; she had elected to stay up and keep a look out. Instead, I saw nobody.

What…?

The small cavern was completely bare, with no sign of it ever being inhabited. Even the stain on the ground was missing, the last pathetic trace of Lukas' existence. Gone. I sat up, brushing the dark hair out of my eyes, and cast my gaze around the cave in case I had missed something. But no, my friends and all our gear had just… vanished.

"Hello?" It felt stupid and unnerving to call out in such an empty space, but I did nonetheless. I didn't receive even the faintest hint of a reply, but I wasn't really expecting one. After all, it was hardly likely that my teammates were going to leap out from behind a protrusion of rock and yell 'surprise!'. Still, I could hope. Hope that they all had just moved closer to the lava lake for warmth, or decided to change position to be more comfortable.

I found no sign of the others. Nothing. Except-

"What the Nether?" A single set of footprints lead away from our small haven, deeper into the terrifying unknown. Deeper into the winding maze of level thirteen. The tunnel mouth didn't look all that inviting, but what other choice did I have?

Torch in hand, I ventured down the rough, narrow stone passage, eyes firmly fixed upon the tracks in the dust. Gradually, the walls became more even and more precisely cut; I didn't think it was possible for simple hand tools to mine out a pathway this accurately.

It didn't take long for the tunnel to widen out into a huge chamber, lit once again by flowing molten rock, although it was obvious that this space was man-made. Dark obsidian blocks, each one as high as my waist, were arranged with mathematical precision along the walls to form a large rectangular chamber, and glowstone cubes were placed strategically along the room's length.

It must have taken years to collect and arrange all these precious resources to construct the walls alone, I thought, not to mention the numerous trips to the Nether to harvest all that glowstone. None of these minor details really mattered to me at that point, though. All I could focus on was the huge structure placed dead centre in the cavernous space. It was of a simple design, but exuded a certain dark aura that made me instinctively want to shy away from it. A three-by-three hole was dug into the stone brick floor with a strange frame suspended above, made of a strange milky white material that I'd never seen before. All in all, I counted twelve of the mysterious chunks of rock, arranged in a square shape mirroring that of the lava below.

As I drew closer, the small objects resting upon the frame came into view. Greenish spheres, glowing softly with a faint internal radiance, were perched atop each block. With a start, I realised that each one resembled a huge reptilian eye, and that they seemed almost alive in the eerie setting. What purpose did the structure serve? The lava, the strange white stone, the twelve identical spheres- No, wait.

There was one missing.

Until then, I had been pretty sure that I was alone, but all certainty vanished when I felt a cold wave of displaced air wash over me from behind, quite like the feeling you get when an enderman teleports in. Somehow, I knew that this was no lowly enderman however, but an entity far more dangerous and intelligent than any mob I've ever faced.

"What do you want with me?" I slowly turned to face the cause of the disturbance, only to see nothing. No, not nothing. A slouched figure lurked, deep in the blackest shadows of the furthest corner of the cavern. I couldn't make him out, other than the fact that he was male, and about my height and weight. Slight. Still, power seemed to leak from him even in his immobile state, coiling into thick, questing tendrils of darkness that sucked the vitality from the air.

"Who- Who are you?"

I received no verbal reply, but the dark energy surrounding the figure pulsed in anger. Before my mind could process the movement, the demon had sprinted towards me, slamming my shoulders into the far obsidian wall behind the portal-like structure. The back of my head collided with the unforgiving rock; stars exploding across my vision. The demon's eyes were fully open now (they had been shut before) and the intense white stare burned into mine. I couldn't move, had no chance of escaping his iron grasp, and could only stare into those awful, burning orbs.

"Please-"

Herobrine's face twisted into an ugly snarl and he launched me across the room with seemingly no effort at all. The sheer force of impact against a dark purple pillar snapped my left arm in two and I cried out loud, a pure scream of agony that resonated around the grand hall. There was no way I could stand now, so I could only watch through slitted, tear-filled eyes as the figure stalked towards me.

Grimacing, I risked a glance down at my injured arm, seeing the dark purplish bruising and the all-too-visible indent where the bone had fractured. The pain was unbearable, sick tremors ricocheting up my shoulder; I leant over and retched, but nothing came up as I had not eaten properly for days.

He was close now. Stopping a few feet away, the demon reached down and hoisted me up in the air by my throat as if it was the easiest thing in the world. I couldn't breathe - cradling my arm close to my chest, I couldn't pry his fingers away either. The grip tightened. Slowly, the terrifying, inhuman face before me started to fade as I lost consciousness, but He wasn't going to let me die that easily. Once again, I was hurled to the ground at his feet, my elbow smashing into the floor and driving a jagged splinter of bone right through the skin. I screamed silently, lacking the air for audible speech, hot tears streaming down my sweat-blackened face. I fell backwards, thick crimson blood seeping from the mangled, ragged mess of my limb.

No-

The figure looming over me stretched out a hand as if begging - the dark energy coiled round his wrist congealing into a sleek shape that I was all-too-familiar with. A diamond blade, razor-sharp and dripping with nauseating black fire. Instinct took over. I tore my eyes away from my arm, kicking out in a desperate attempt to get away. It was a deadly mistake; The being wasted no time in driving the newly-formed weapon straight through my chest.

I'll never forget the sound it made. A clean snick, like a knife being sharpened on stone. I was beyond pain at this point, the only feeling being a delicious numbing sensation that spread quickly through my broken form. My head hit the cold stone tiles, my eyes closed, and I died.

Or so I thought.


	7. The Mind

**Yes, I know this is SO late, and I left you guys on a massive cliffhanger, but here it is! I'm a bit unsure about this chapter and am not very happy about it, so some small bits may be altered (it won't change the story though, just the wording). **

***Adopts Ssundee's voice* Don't hate me dudes! Please! *Hides under desk***

* * *

**The Mind**

_Day 9_

* * *

"Aria, wake up!"

Groaning in annoyance, I forced one eye open, the sudden intrusion of light causing a splitting headache to pulse at my temple. A silhouette bent over me; fair hair, baggy shirt, unshaven, concerned features. Ethan. He shook my shoulder once again in frustration at my unwillingness to respond, practically yelling my name in my ear.

"Aria! C'mon, Notchdamnit!"

I rolled over to one side, reluctant to return to the land of the living. I'd been having such a nice dream too, one where I wasn't stuck in a damn cave, forced together with people I barely tolerated. I had been able to see the sun, feel it's warmth on my upturned face as if the sensation was the most natural thing in the world. Unfortunately, such a delightful experience wasn't very achievable in my current situation, and without proof that the menace was past it never would be again.

"What is it, Ethan? It's not like we are in any hurry." I murmured dejectedly.

"Steve's missing."

That woke me up. Groggily, I propped myself up, stiff back hard against the unforgiving stone wall. How could it be? Steve wouldn't dare wander off on his own, not without telling us first. Nevertheless, that seemed to be what had happened. I recalled that he had nodded off beside Zek, over by the cavern entrance, but now a slight smudge smeared across the dusty ground was the only pathetic sign of his presence. Even his gear was still there, something Steve would have definitely taken with him if he had planned on leaving. A nagging voice at the back of my mind told me that he hadn't left by choice, though.

"Do you have any idea where he went?"

Hesitantly, Ethan nodded, pointing to a faint set of tracks leading further into the menacing depths of the mining tunnels. They looked recent, fresh and clear in the dim, unflattering light. We had no choice but to follow; after all, our sorry little expedition was headed in that direction anyway.

Glancing around at the others, I noticed that Ethan and I were the only ones awake. Jackson was sprawled in the dirt a few metres away, and, judging by her pained expression and twitching form, apparently in the grips of a nightmare. I felt reluctant to wake her, to drag her from one hell into another, but we had no choice. The longer we left Steve alone and unprotected…

Roughly shaking Jackson's shoulder did nothing. She simply moaned and curled a little tighter around herself, skin pale and clammy under my firm touch.

"Jackson! Wake up!"

No response. I sat back on my heels, biting my lip absently in thought. Ethan was trying to revive Zak from a deep, fretful slumber, with about as much success as I had. All three of our team-mates were out cold and unresponsive, utterly dead to the world.

I turned to Ethan. "Maybe we should-"

"Absolutely not. Are you crazy? We can't leave them here unprotected!"

Ethan didn't want to leave Jackson alone - I understood. It wasn't the best option, far from it, but I couldn't help but feel as if this had all been… Orchestrated somehow.

"Listen, I am not saying that there is anything out there, but if there is, it would want to toy with us. As she is asleep, Jackson is probably the safest out of any of us right now."

He didn't want to agree with me, I could see it in his eyes. The man started to shake his head, glancing over at Jackson's motionless figure.

"No, I can't."

I rubbed the bridge of my nose in distress. I would be able to persuade Ethan to join me, but only at the shameful misuse of my past. I- I couldn't. But Steve was out there.

"Look, I was marred for my parent's beliefs in 'Him'. If I get the chance to bring this all to an end, I will."

That did it; reluctantly, Ethan fished a small square of paper out of one of his voluminous pockets, and scribbled Jackson a hasty note to leave by her side. We packed up our gear, painfully aware of every stiff joint and numb limb that resulted from sleeping on rough ground. Ethan had drawn his stone sword in readiness; it was unnerving to have him at my back, as jumpy and nervous as he was, but in the cramped confines of the tunnels we could hardly walk side-by-side.

"This is such a stupid idea," Ethan complained for perhaps the fifth time. "It's just like what the main characters do in horror films - senselessly splitting up to allow themselves to be picked off one by one."

"But this isn't a horror film, Ethan. There is no plan to these events, no grand scheme. We're just a handful of Minecraftians cursed with exceptionally bad luck, that's all." I didn't even manage to convince myself with my reassuring words, let alone my skittish companion. I just kept my head down, following the tracks in the dust.

* * *

Darkness. Cold. The agony had long faded away by then, my body not being able to cope with such a horrific sensory overload. I was no longer aware of my surroundings, couldn't even muster the strength to open my eyes. I could only lie in darkness.

_It was him. He did this._

All along, Graham and the locals were right. All along, I had been watched, been hunted, and ultimately been taken down. All for what? Why was I so important?

A shift. Something had changed - I was no longer alone, sprawled out across a blood-slicked stone floor. Someone else was there, someone vaguely familiar. I made out snatches of distorted conversation, casuistic whispers that lured me out of unconsciousness and grated on my bruised eardrums.

"No, He's-"

"Can you see anything-"

"-breathing."

"Steve, wake-"

"-wake up."

"STEVE!"

My eyes lurched open; raw, red and watering madly from the sudden blinding light. The intense brightness caused the awful memories to surface once again, and I cried out in distress. Aria was there, kneeling beside me, comforting me, laying pale fingers gently on my arm-

Wait-

"No! Don't touch it!" Gritting my teeth, I curled myself protectively around the injured limb, batting Aria's hand away and leaving thin scratches down her arm. She recoiled in confusion at my reaction to her slight touch, glancing up at Ethan who was poised above her.

"Steve, what is it? Are you hurt?"

I almost choked in surprise. Couldn't she see the blood matted in my hair, soaking through my clothes, still leaking out of my shattered arm…

My shattered arm that seemed to be in very good shape.

"What?" But I could still feel it. It had been broken, possibly beyond repair, and I was still being rocked by sick twinges of pain. Every fibre of my being told me not to, but I carefully reached out and felt for any sign of abnormality. Nothing.

"But- But my arm was-"

"Was what?" Aria helped me to my feet; I shouldn't have even been able to rise off the ground, but here I was. Here I was.

I should have been dead. But here I was.

"It was broken. I got beat up pretty bad." I peered at her expression out of the corner of my eye; serious as always, full of courage, but frightened too. What if I told her? She had suffered so much at the hands of people she thought had loved her as a child, and now she was suffering again. All because of 'him'. I couldn't just say nothing though - she deserved to know.

"I saw 'him', Aria. He was here, and he killed me."

Aria's eyes widened in shock and disbelief, and she subconsciously shook her head in denial. She must have thought I was crazy, especially as I seemed to bear no marks from the attack (apart from the lingering sensation of pain) and was in good shape.

"No, that's not… No, you must have imagined it. You could have tripped and hit your head, or just collapsed from exhaustion. The dark down here makes everyone go a little crazy."

"How do you explain all this then?" Angrily, I gestured to the grand hall around. I'll admit, I was splenetic. Didn't she know what I'd been through? All the agony that I'd endured? Of course she didn't.

"Look, you haven't-"

"Enough! You're delusional, Steve! None of this happened!" Her tone was bitter and resentful. Nothing I could say would convince her of the truth.

"You have to believe me! He was here!"

"No Steven. He wasn't." Without another word, my friend turned her back on me and trudged away towards the exit, fists clenched tightly by her sides.

* * *

_They couldn't wake up. They weren't strong enough to throw off the dark, suffocating energy surrounding them, keeping them immobile, but they could sense him in their dreams. His presence entered their minds, corrupting their thoughts, altering their memories and warping them into twisted nightmares. _

Mortals. So fragile.

_He sneered down at the female's twitching form, muttering incoherently at some dark figment of her own imagination. A note had been placed by her side, some crumpled scrap of paper left by her male companion before he left. The watcher picked the note up, crumpling it into a tight ball and shoving it in his pocket. He had hoped that Lukas' death would have been enough to discourage anyone else from entering the mine, but he had been wrong. Even worse, the mysterious brown-haired human had seen right through the cloaking spell he had cast on himself in the portal room. But how? No mortal was able to do the same, so why him?_

Who are you?


	8. Kian got Cocky

**Hey, I actually got this out on time! This is a bit of a boring chapter, as it's just backstory, but things should start hotting up soon. In the mean time, enjoy!**

* * *

**Kian got Cocky**

_Day 9_

* * *

"Aria! Come on, don't walk off like that!" She paid me no heed. She didn't even look back. I mean, after all we'd been through, she should at least spare me a glance, right? But no. The woman just couldn't bring herself to accept Steve's words; who could blame her, to be honest? She'd been running from the same rumours all her life - it would take a lot more than the miner's protestations to convince her.

I know Aria well. I was one of the first people to accept her, to let her in despite the circulating whispers. She had had nowhere to turn, having been thrown out of her home town and mutilated for her parent's beliefs. It isn't hard to remember that day, remember the slender face of a young girl that's just had her whole life ripped away.

Her whole life…

* * *

"_For the love of Notch, Ethan! Hurry up!" The wiry black-haired boy grinned in triumph, mocking his brother's failed attempts to keep up. He was almost halfway up the side of the towering spruce tree beside their small family home, while Ethan, trembling, was still crouched on the lowest branches. He had always been terrified of heights, even from such an early age, but his older "brother" Kian never shared his qualms. The two boys weren't technically related, but Ethan considered them so nonetheless._

_Ethan's parents had rescued Kian from the wreckage of his old home, his village having been burned to the ground by raiders. It had been a dark time, back then; marauders running wild, thieves and bandits controlling the weak outlying towns. Luckily, Ethan's family hadn't been affected as they were almost entirely self-sufficient and lived in the middle of nowhere, but still. _

_It had been a dark time._

"_I- I can't make it!" A hot flush spread across the blonde's face at his failure, and he started to edge back down the tree in defeat. A small branch, thrown with uncanny accuracy, struck him on the back of the head, swiftly followed by a triumphant jeer._

"_Look at you, long-haired scaredy-pants! Can't even make it up here like I can!" Ethan couldn't stand to see Kian so high. It was frightening enough to sit on the edge of the sheer precipice by the mines where his father worked, let alone watch his beloved brother dance along the fragile spruce branches with such reckless abandon. _

_It wasn't hard to tell the boys apart, even though they were practically inseparable. Ethan; young, timid, and with a full head of shoulder-length, lush blonde hair that flopped in his eyes. He never did anything without asking his parents or his older brother first, never dared to stray outside his comfort zone without a reassuring presence at his side. Kian; older and stronger, with a sharp tongue to match. He shunned the village's tradition of males wearing their hair long, preferring to cut it short then spike it up with a putrid gel made from mashed-up berries. Ethan hated the look, so grew his hair out despite his brother's insistence that he should cut it. _

_It was one of the only times he ever dared defy Kian._

"_I told you, I don't like heights! You look stupid up there anyway!" Another branch came hurtling down, but Ethan - now firmly on the ground - was able to dodge it. "Missed!"_

"_Get outta here, long-hair!"_

"_Fine!" Ethan turned tail and stormed off, face once again burning at the shame of his brother's superiority. Why did Kian always have to be so arrogant? Why did he always have to be better?_

"_Well, at least I have parents," The child muttered to himself, then instantly regretted it. Sure, Kian may be tougher, but he was also three years older. By the time Ethan was that age, he would have probably gotten over his fears. But for now…_

"_Ugh! You're so stupid! Why can't you do it?" The child viciously kicked at the undergrowth, stubbing his toe on a hard mass concealed within the weeds. _

"_OW!" Ethan hopped on the spot, gritting his teeth. Well, that was idiotic. He almost jumped out of his skin when the lump shifted and groaned slightly, shaking off it's covering of leaves and earth. "What in Notch's name?"_

"_Well that's just rude," A muffled voice complained, the figure that Ethan had unknowingly hit straightening up and glaring at him. "I was just trying t'have a feckin' nap!"_

"_I- I'm sorry! I didn't know there was someone there!" The blonde boy stared at the slender stranger warily; no one ever ventured up to their remote family home, let alone stop to kip in the bushes. Nonetheless, that was what the young girl had done._

_The silence stretched on as Ethan struggled to come up with something to say. Eventually, he couldn't stand the awkward tension any longer and blurted out, "Who are you? And why are you all the way out here?"_

"_I'm Aria. And it's a _long _story," The stranger brushed her long red hair out of her eyes, revealing a raw, fresh scar across her cheek, reaching almost to her ear. A stray tear ran down it's length, dripping off her chin to the cracked ground._

"_It's a long story."_

* * *

Over time, she told me everything. Her parent's beliefs. The rumours about her. She ran away from her past, ran away to escape the hatred and disfigurement waiting for her. In her heart though, she still feels guilty for abandoning her parents, even though they were the ones to cold-heartedly mutilate her. Faced with that terrifying choice - to stay and endure the pain, or to take off on her own - she ran. To be honest, I don't blame her, and don't believe her actions were cowardly like she does. Aria did the right thing.

I'm just surprised that she had the restraint to not murder Steve for saying what he did.

* * *

He died. A couple of months after I met Ethan, Kian died. I wasn't there, so didn't witness exactly what happened, but Ethan told me he fell from the tree behind their house. I was practically living there at that point, having been taken in by Ethan's kindness and lacking a place to stay. Thankfully, I had been out in the forest gathering mushrooms and didn't return until nightfall, so I didn't have to see.

I didn't have to see…

To be honest, I had never really liked Kian. He was bossy, and loud, and wore his hair up in a short, cropped style that was unbecoming of a well-developed young man. It wasn't like Ethan's long golden hair, that's for sure. Kian was so different to Ethan. Always expecting the boy to obey his every whim; Ethan would have probably followed in Kian's shadow for his whole life.

But Kian got cocky.

I could tell that Ethan was deeply traumatised at what he had found, so I didn't dare ask him for the details. Even now, eleven-odd years later, he still refuses to open up. I guess Kian was someone he could look up to, someone who would protect him and make him feel safe, like I never could.

The next day, Ethan cut his hair. I'd never felt more… _betrayed_ when he walked out of the bathroom that morning, sporting an ugly, close-cropped cut. Ethan, despite Kian's repeated attempts to force him to change, had prided himself on upholding the village's traditions, and now this-

"Aria! Come on, don't walk off like that!" I ignored him - the last thing I wanted to do was talk to Ethan at the moment. As much as I didn't want to admit it, Steve's words had rocked me deeply, reopening a very old, scabbed-over wound that now hurt like new. I increased my pace, trying to put some distance between myself and the two men following me. Soon enough, Ethan and Steve were no longer within earshot, so I slowed to a reluctant stop.

"I- I know you're there. What do you want?"

Silence. The ethereal shadows seemed to thicken around me, coalescing into wavering tendrils of darkness. A cold chill ran down my spine, and the small torch in my hand flickered and dimmed, the pale light reflecting of the roughly-hewn tunnel walls.

"You don't scare me."

He was there. Hunched in the centre of the maelstrom of black energy, two blinding white eyes piercing through the gloom. I opened my mouth to speak.

"Why-"

* * *

**Oh snap! A cliffhanger! So, Aria knew all along, huh? And what does Kian's death have to do with all of this? I have a feeling that Ethan knows...**

Leave a rating if you enjoyed!


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